Fate
by Tabbycat2000
Summary: Now Complete! Pippin and Diamond Took had an arranged marriage- the rest is all up to fate. ::pg13 for sexual referances::
1. Preparations

**_Fate_**

Chapter One: Preparation

      "Diamond Echinacea Took, get in here _right now!_"

      Diamond groaned and peered through the foliage towards the door of the hobbit‑hole. "Coming, Mother," she called half‑heartedly. She dropped to the ground, rolled, and came up brushing peat and grass off her already soiled skirts.

      Sage Took was standing on the doorstep, holding a wooden spoon and looking absolutely furious. But Diamond knew her mother was all hot air and bluster; she'd never really come after her with a cooking utensil.

      "You called, Mother?" Diamond asked meekly, pushing a lock of red‑brown hair off her forehead. Sage's frown deepened as she took in her daughter's ruffled, soiled, and altogether disreputable appearance.

      "I told you, Diamond, you're to help with the preserves, not go gallivanting off among the trees and soiling your new dress."

      "Mother, it was only for a little while," Diamond said, wheedling. "And besides, there's only the pickles left, and all that has to be done with those is stuffed into the jars."

      Sage shook her head, gesticulating with the spoon so furiously it threatened to fly from her grip. "You're almost thirty-two years old, Diamond, and far too old to be running about like some child. And besides, you need to learn how to run a household."

      "Don't remind me," Diamond muttered. She pushed past her mother and entered the hobbit hole, head drooping, thoroughly dejected by her mother's words. Sage stepped in behind her, mouth pursed, shaking her head.

      Any other girl would have been utterly thrilled to be in Diamond's shoes. But Diamond herself seemed to want nothing to do with her new calling in life.

      Diamond's father and Sage's husband, Tiberius Took, had arranged for Diamond to be wedded to the son of the Thain, a lad by the name of Peregrine. It was a strategic move designed to bring the North‑Tooks and the Tooks of Tookland back together after over seven generations of separation. Diamond despised the entire idea, despite the general populace thinking it was a glorious notion all together.

      "All right, what shall I do," said Diamond wearily as she stepped into the kitchen and began tying an apron around her waist again. "Boil saltpeter or scrub cucumbers?"

      "Start heating the jars and lids," said Sage, pointing to the stack of crockery on the counter. "The hot water's in that pot there. Be sure and pay attention to what you're doing; next harvest I won't be there to keep your mind on your task."

      Diamond rolled her eyes. If she had her way, she'd be on a fast track to Rivendell by next harvest. _Anywhere but here,_ she thought fiercely, and began placing the jars in the hot water with a fury that made it seem as if the items had insulted her.

      "You're a lucky girl, you know," said Sage absently, her anger already vanishing as per usual. She began scrubbing the cucumbers as she spoke. "Married to a war hero. Who would have imagined."

      "Father, apparently," Diamond said dryly. Sage ignored it.

      "It'll be a bit odd, being married and still having the same name as before, but that's not important."

      "Then what is?" Diamond exploded suddenly. "That Father have a nice famous name to add to the genealogy chart? I don't want to marry a man I've never met, Mother, you of all people should understand that! You and Father had an arranged marriage and you've fought every day of your lives!"

      Sage didn't answer this. Instead she gave her daughter a dark look and began scrubbing with a vengeance.

* * *

      "What's her name?"

"Diamond."

      "Is she pretty?"

      "How should I know? I've never even met the girl."

      "Oh, surely you must have! You're marrying her in under five weeks, you have to have met her at least once."

      Pippin sat up sharply and gave Merry a dirty look worthy of Sauron himself. Pippin was rarely in a foul mood—so rarely, in fact, that no one could remember the last time he'd been angry—but when he was, it was best to steer clear. He could get mean.

      Pippin was not enjoying the situation one bit, which was a gross understatement. He, like everyone else in Tookland and Hobbiton, had been rather scandalized by the whole thing, but now everyone but Pippin thought it a wonderful idea. The thought was by no means something particularly welcome to Pippin at that moment.

      "Merry, please, stop it. I don't want to marry her, and I don't care about allegiance with the North‑Tooks, and I don't give a donkey's dingo about your insipid curiosity. Now, can we change the subject?"

      Merry plucked a sorrel stem and stuck it between his teeth. "Why so upset, Pippin? I doubt the girl's a Black Rider in disguise."

      Pippin flopped back on the grass and stared up at the clouds. "That's not the point. It has nothing to do with this Diamond lass, it has everything to do with the fact that my parents betrothed me to a stranger without either my knowledge nor consent."

      Merry made a so‑so gesture, still gnawing on the sorrel. "Well, at least you needn't sort through the mass of admirers you've acquired."

      Pippin's only reply was a derisive snort.

      "All right, so you had to break it off with Rose. And you've got every male Hornblower after your hide because of breaking her heart."

      This time the reply was still derisive, but it was a low, self‑deprecating laugh that was entirely out of character for normally bubbly Pippin.

      "And everyone's laughing at you because you've been roped into this mess."

      "Mmm."

      "And‑ and‑ and I give up! All right, you're in a royal bloody mess Pip, there, I said it!"

      Pippin sat up and met his cousin's gaze, no longer angry but sad, filled with betrayal. "And that's not the half of it, Merry. The worst part is that my own parents brought this down on my head."

      "They also ignored the fact that you're thirty‑seven years old and four years out of their jurisdiction," Merry pointed out. Pippin made a face.

      "'Jurisdiction?' You sound like a bloody dictionary, Brandybuck."

      Merry shrugged. "Gandalf and his fancy wordin' rubbed off on me, I suppose. Besides, the lasses like it when you sound like you've a bit more brains than a housefly." He laughed.

Pippin shook his head, smiling despite himself at Merry's incorrigible humor. "You never give up, do you."

      "Never saw a reason to. Come on, Pip, let's go and have a smoke." He stood and tossed the mangled sorrel stem away. "With you hanging about, the stress is getting to me."

* * *

      "That dress is just perfectly lovely."

      "Isn't it? Oh Diamond, you're going to absolutely radiant."

      Diamond twirled nervously. Excess of the suffix 'ly' either meant that they were flat‑out lying, exaggerating beyond belief, or telling the truth. She didn't want to know which.

      "It's gorgeous," said Laurel, voice mingled envy and happiness for her friend. "I mean it, Di."

      "Really?" asked Diamond nervously, a sudden bout of vanity overcoming her. She eyed herself in the mirror. A typical hobbit lass looked back at her‑ plump but not overly so, just to the point of pleasantly curved. Large golden brown eyes, long curls of reddish brown hair, full lips, and a slightly pointed nose. She looked odd in the flowing white dress, composed of a snug bodice, long sleeves that ended in points on the backs of her hands, and long, full, sweeping skirts. All of it was embroidered beautifully.

      "It's my best work yet, if I say so myself," Autumn Heron said, eyeballing the dress with satisfaction. "Will it do, Sage?"

      "Oh yes," said Sage. "It's perfect."

      "Definitely," added Laurel cheerfully.

      "It is," said Diamond miserably. "It's official now, isn't it? Once the dress has been fitted there's no going back."

      There was a long pause.

      "Everything seems to be in order," said Autumn briskly. "Change out of it, dear, and I'll keep it safe until your journey to the Smials."

      "_Our_ journey, you mean," said Laurel. "Half the town's been invited, and I dare say the rest will show up anyway."

      Diamond slipped behind the changing screen and wriggled out of the dress. The outfit wasn't complete yet, she still needed the veil and the headpiece finished. The veil was three‑quarters crocheted, the headpiece design had been chosen, and her mother was hard at work arranging the rest of the wedding. All Diamond had to do was be there when the fateful day arrived.

      "Diamond? Are you all right?"

      Laurel kneeled beside her friend, who was sitting on the floor with the dress in her lap and wearing only her undergarments. Diamond looked up sharply.

      "I'll be all right. Give this to Mrs. Heron, will you?" She gave Laurel the dress and grabbed at her clothing, pulling it over her head. Laurel retreated, and a few minutes later Diamond reappeared in her normal clothes.

      Autumn and Sage were discussing wedding details with complete disregard for Diamond's presence and preferences on the subject, something that irked Diamond to no end. It was as if she were a child completely incapable of thinking for herself.

      "Have you planned the floral arrangements?"

      "Of course! I've a drawn layout of the area where the entire thing will take place, and the interior of the pavilion. We've chosen honeysuckle, white roses, ferns, and pink daisies for the flowers. I can show you the plans if you'd like."

      Diamond fled.

      Laurel found her five minutes later hiding in a clump of willow trees, trembling and sobbing into her hands. Laurel knelt by her friend a gently pulled her hands from her face and wiped away her tears with her apron.

      "Diamond? What's wrong?" asked Laurel gently, pale blue eyes filled with concern for her closest friend. "You can talk to me, you know that."

      Diamond looked up at Laurel, hiccuping slightly, face damp, and eyes red‑rimmed, all together looking like death warmed over. "It's this‑ entire craziness," she said shakily, more sobs threatening to overcome her. She swallowed them and continued.

      "I'm marrying a perfect stranger instead of Janus, I'm moving all the way across the Shire, my parents don't give a fig about my personal opinion on anything, and I only just turned thirty-two!" Diamond wailed. "I'm too young to get married in the first place!"

      Laurel wanted to laugh about the mention of Janus—Diamond had fancied the Heron boy since who knew when—but wisely held her mirth and instead embraced her friend, murmuring comforting words.

      "It'll be all right, Diamond."

      "No it _won't,_ Laurel, can't you see that? I don't want to end up like my own parents, you know what they're like!"

      Diamond's parents, Tiberius and Sage, had been betrothed since birth and had fought every day of their married lives.

      "I know exactly what your parents are like, but you won't end up like them. You're far too anxious for that, you'd have fits of hysteria weekly in that kind of marriage."

      This earned a wan smile from Diamond. "I would, wouldn't I?"

      Laurel followed this thread of conversation, determined to make Diamond cheer up. "Oh yes, most definitely. Either that or you'd come after the poor man with a frying pan."

      Both girls burst into giggles at the image of an irate Diamond chasing some poor hobbit with a cast iron frying pan, yelling at the top of her lungs.

      "There, see?" said Laurel when the laughter had died away. "It's not as bad as you make it out to be."

      "I suppose so," said Diamond reluctantly. "Let's go back, Mother's probably wondering where her crazy child has got herself off to this time." She stood with a sigh, wiping the remnants of her tears off with her cuff. Laurel stood as well, brushing peat from her skirts.

            "Race you to the _smial_!" Laurel hollered, and bolted. Diamond laughed and went tearing after her, marriage woes completely forgotten.


	2. Anxiety

Chapter 2

"I can't believe we leave tomorrow. I almost thought it would never happen…"

"Chin up, Diamond, it's not the end of the world. Does this stitch look all right to you?"

"Mmm."

Laurel set down her embroidery and glanced at her friend. Diamond's hands lay idle, not a single stitch on her cloth. She was staring into the fireplace, watching the smoldering fire crackle and glow red. She looked eerie in the light‑ half her face awash in the orange of the lantern light, the other dark red from the glow of the coals.

"Diamond?"

Diamond looked up. "What is it, Laurel?"

"You're doing it again."

Diamond sighed and picked up her needle and thread and held it ready to embroider the fabric in her lap. "I know it's silly, letting my mind wander, but I can't help it. I can't keep all the silly what‑ifs out of my head."

"Diamond, please, stop being so anxious about everything. You'll put yourself into nervous fits again, like you did when you moved from that old hole to this new place."

Diamond nodded and began her sewing, paying hardly any attention to her task. "What do you reckon Tookland's like, Laurel?"

Laurel shrugged. "Not much different from the rest of the Shire, I'll wager. It's all the same wherever you go, Diamond‑ hills and grass and streams and farms as far as you can see. And speaking of that, I would dearly love to see the sea. Wouldn't you?"

Diamond shook her head, sending her red‑brown curls dancing. "No, I'd frightened to death of it. Water as far as you can see and then some- not for me. I like good solid earth far better than flighty ocean waves."

"But you're so much like them…"

Diamond looked up sharply, head cocked to one side as she considered her long‑time friend. "What on earth do you mean, Laurel Honeycutt?"

"Well…" Laurel gestured vaguely. "You're moody, you switch tracks at the drop of a hat, you're awfully anxious, like some old spinster. I don't think you where ever really a child, Diamond, you're always worrying about tomorrow."

"I do not!"

"Yes you do, Diamond. Don't argue that point, every hobbit lad and lass in Long‑Cleave will back me up. Now hurry up with that napkin border, we still have these three left to do."

"Mmm." Diamond returned to her embroidery and cast her friend's words from her thoughts. It was unimportant if she was flighty, what was important was getting to the Great Smials without having a nervous breakdown.

"I know you're awful frightened, but what if this Peregrine person ends up being straight out of your dreams?" asked Laurel suddenly, her eyes distant. "What if, through some weird twist of fate, you've been paired with the hobbit you're destined to be with?"

Diamond laughed bitterly. "Then I'll be very surprised."

* * *

"That's a raw deal if I ever heard one," Sam commented, puffing away on his pipe and sending smoke rings about his red hair. "Even if it's the fiftieth time I've heard it."

Laughter rippled through the dim, smoky inn. Of those chuckling, Merry was loudest, but was halted but a quick glare from Pippin.

"I suppose you find that very funny."

"Of course we do," said the Gaffer from his table a few feet away. "Buck up, lad, your folks ain't hard enough to put you with some ugly wench now, are they?"

"You don't know that," said Pippin, gesturing with his half‑empty tankard. "Father cares more about the politics of the thing than how I feel about being wed to a stranger."

"That's true," said Merry, chewing thoughtfully on the mouthpiece of his pipe. "But sitting here hashing it out more often than Sam weeds‑"

"Hey!"

"‑doesn't do beans," said Merry, ignoring Samwise's interruption. "Let's change the subject, eh?"

"Amen to that!" said the barkeep fervently.

"Taters doing uncommon well this year," said the Gaffer, and everyone except Samwise groaned. Hamfest Gamgee never talked about anything except his gardening.

At that point everyone broke off into their own conversations. Sam‑for once in his life‑declined to discuss plants with his father and instead crossed the room to sit at Pippin and Merry's table.

"Holding up all right?" he asked conversationally. Pippin laughed darkly into his ale‑the third tankard he'd had that night‑ and Merry shrugged.

"As well as can be expected, considering this deadweight takes pleasure in my company." He gave his cousin's shoulder a poke for emphasis.

"Very funny, Merry. What about you, Sam? Rose and the little'uns doing all right?"

"Sure are," said Sam. "All three and a half of them."

"I heard something about that," said Merry, waving his pipe at Sam. "Are you trying to pack as many children as you can into as short a time period as possible?"

Sam flushed and took a deep swig to hide it. When he set down his mug, he shook his head. "No. It just... happens."

Pippin giggled. Merry could see a series of dirty jokes on the horizon, but with impeccable timing the inn's door flew open and seven‑year‑old Elanor came running in.

"Papa, Mum's says it's late and you need to get home!" Elanor gasped, her blonde curls tangled, her dress dirty, dirt smudged on her face. Sam stood, laughing at his daughter's breathless entrance, and swung her onto his back. "We'd best be going. Good‑bye, then." He waved to the inn in general, then exited with more than a little relief.

"You'd almost think he planned that," Merry snorted. Pippin nodded.

"Almost," he agreed. "Wish I had a convenient excuse to get out of trouble." He studied the interior of his tankard. "I should leave, before I get entirely too happy." He grinned stupidly.

Merry gave his cousin the fish‑eye and nodded. "Uh, yeah, I would say so. Let's go, then." Merry tossed a handful of coins on the table to cover their bill, then helped Pippin out of the inn. The sandy‑haired hobbit was rather unsteady on his feet.

"You're a bit anxious about this marriage, aren't you?" asked Merry as the pair wobbled their way down the dirt road towards Bywater.

"I should think so," said Pippin, and promptly fell down.

* * *

"Have you packed everything?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Is it all on the cart?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Did your father hitch up the ponies?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Is Laurel ready to leave?"

"Yes, Mother."

"I think that's all..."

Diamond folded her arms and shook her head, watching Sage drift about Diamond's bedroom looking for something left behind. The only of Diamond's possessions being left was her collection of dolls, for the obvious reason that a married hobbit‑woman didn't own such frivolity.

"Mother, we're going to be extremely late. It takes two days to get there, we'd best leave," said Diamond, fighting down her own anxiety in the face of her mother's flighty nervousness.

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Sage gave the stripped room one last glance, then hurried down the hall with Diamond trailing close behind. In short order they had left the smial and were above ground. Sage climbed onto the front seat with Tiberius, and Diamond sat on a pile of bedding in the back with Laurel and all their things.

"You're on your way to whole new life," said Laurel as the ponies began trotting down the road towards Tookland. Diamond sighed, watching the familiar landscape of her home vanish from view.

"Don't remind me."


	3. Hello My Name Is

Chapter Three

Hello, My Name Is

      "Diamond, wake up! Look at this, it's absolutely gorgeous!"

      "Laurel, what are you on about?" Diamond peeked out from under the blanket and gave Laurel a one‑eyed glare. Laurel ignored it and yanked the blanket off her friend.

      "Hey! I was using that!" 

      "Shhh!" Laurel hissed, pressing a finger to Diamond's lips. "Come here, I want you to see this," Laurel whispered, pulling Diamond to her feet. "It's great."

      Diamond sighed and allowed Laurel to steer her around to the other side of the wagon. Then Laurel pointed, grinning, and Diamond was suddenly glad she'd awakened.

      Silhouetted against the dawn, a herd of spotted deer was grazing in the meadow. Three fawns leapt about, nipping at each other's flanks in play.

      "Oh my," Diamond breathed. It wasn't all that miraculous, but the large animals looked so beautiful in the early light that she couldn't help but be awed. Laurel smiled and poked her friend in the ribs.

      "And you didn't want to get up."

      "What are you blathering about?"

      The instant the loud, irritated words were voiced, the entire herd turned tail and ran with odd grace into the forest. Diamond it back a cry of dismay.

      "Mother, you scared them away! Shh!" But Diamond's admonition was in vain‑ the deer had vanished and weren't about to return any time soon.

      Sage squinted blearily at the two girls. "Diamond, see that the fire is started, will you? Laurel, I'd appreciate it if you would start breakfast. Tiberius and I will get the wagon re‑packed and hitched up." Sage bent over, her tousled head vanishing behind the wall of the wagon bed. She and her husband had slept there, while Diamond and Laurel slept on the rather dirtier but far more comfortable grass.

      It took only twenty minutes to start breakfast heating over the fire and have the wagon packed again. Then the four hobbits shared a meal of reheated ham and biscuits and tea‑ a meal that was far from adequate in their minds, but was filling non the less. The ponies were then quickly brushed and hitched to the wagon.

      "We'll be there this morning," said Tiberius as he helped his wife into the seat. "Excited, Diamond?" While Tiberius cared very much about his political position and how this marriage would affect it, he cared deeply for his only child. In his eyes, she could do no wrong.

      "Define 'excited,'" said Diamond dryly and she climbed into the wagon bed to sit beside Laurel. "If excited means I'm ready to turn tail and run, then yes, I suppose you could say that."

      Tiberius chuckled and flicked the reins. "You needn't be quite so melodramatic, love. I've met this Peregrine chap and he's a decent fellow, if a bit excitable."

      "They should get along swimmingly then," said Laurel with a laugh. Diamond laughed as well but gave her friend a poke in the ribs.

      "Aye, that they should," Tiberius laughed. "But Diamond, try not to avoid the lad these next three days. It's your only chance to get to know him before you wed."

      Diamond sighed. "Can we talk about something else, Papa? I'm weary of speaking only of this marriage‑ which, I must say again, I protest to."

      "All right, then. What were you two so excited about this morning?"

      The conversation went on in this manner for the next four hours as the quartet of hobbits‑three rather excited, one rather nauseous‑drove through the woodlands of the Shire towards the Great Smials. Sage spoke little, preferring to work on a piece of embroidery, but the two girls and Tiberius more than made up for her silence with happy chatter that echoed through the trees and made the woodland creatures wonder what all the fuss was about.

      Then they left the forests behind them and spent almost an hour driving through farmland. Laurel and Diamond were having a heated discussion on the nature of High Elves when Sage cried out, "There it is!"

      Diamond's head snapped up and her stomach began doing somersaults. A large green hill had appeared over the vegetable fields, round windows cut deep into its sides. Until that moment this entire adventure had seemed rather surreal, but the sight of the smial looming ever closer brought it jarring back into the realms of reality. It really is happening, Diamond thought numbly.

      "Diamond, you all right?"

      Diamond shook her head and looked up at Laurel's concerned face. "Not quite, but I'll survive."

* * *

      "She'll be here today."

      "I know."

      "The reception's tonight."

      "I know that, too."

      "You're bloody annoying."

      "I know‑ hey!"

      Merry grinned impishly, eyes dancing with his small victory. "Well, I got you to actually think about what you were saying."

      Pippin tried not to smile, but Merry's amusement was contagious and he ended up laughing anyway. "Meriadoc, will you ever give up?"

      Merry shook his head, still grinning. "Afraid not, cousin. I'll always be the same. You, however, have changed quite a bit these last few weeks."

      Pippin cocked an eyebrow. "How so?"

      "Hmm, let's see." Merry began ticking items off on his fingers. "You're depressed, you don't want to pull pranks anymore, you hardly smile, you mope constantly, you spend most nights at the pub seeking solace in awful‑tasting ale that would curl anyone's toes, you're snappish and irritable, you act like your parents have cooties‑"

      "I get the point, Merry," Pippin interrupted, standing up. "I'm sorry I haven't been all that happy, but next time you have to marry a total stranger, let me know what it's like, will you?"

      Merry sighed from his toes, mirth gone like smoke in a breeze. "All right, it's a terrible thing. But hey, shouldn't you be living you last days as a bachelor to the hilt, instant of moping about like some forlorn puppy?"

      "I should be, yes, but this country has gone from gloriously hysterical to utterly boring." Pippin blew all the air out of his lungs and squinted up at the smial, shielding his eyes with one hand. "We've done it all, Merry."

      "We haven't done historical re‑enactments," said Merry hopefully. Pippin gave a snort of laughter in reply.

      "If you can convince your mum to dress as an Orc, you're more than welcome to stage one."

      "Hey!"

      "It's a joke, Merry. Remember those?"

      Merry rolled his eyes and stood, brushing peat and grass off his trousers. "Haven't heard one from you in so long I almost thought you didn't know what the word meant anymore."

      "You've got me there." Pippin dropped his hand and turned his gaze towards the road that meandered through Tookland and directly past the Smial's front door. "When do you think they'll arrive?"

      "Around lunch, I suppose. Can't miss a meal at the Smial, they're bloody good."

      "Is that all you think about?"

      "Hmm..." Merry made the classic "thinking about it" pose. "Nope. Not that I can think of."

      Pippin laughed. "You're a complete nutter, Merry."

      "Yeah, well, look in the mirror. You're a bit odd too." Merry twirled one finger beside his head, grinning lopsidedly. Pippin snorted and gave his cousin a good‑natured shove, which was quickly returned. Before either knew it they were in a full‑blown wrestling match, punctuated by laughter and shouts.

      "What on earth are you doing?!"

      Pippin and Merry, both lying on their backs panting, exchanged panicked glances and scrambled to their feet. No matter how old she got, Eglantine Took would always be a force to be reckoned with and when she spoke, you gave her your full attention.

      "Um..."

      "You see..."

      "Peregrine, Diamond and her family have arrived," said Eglantine sharply. "Go and greet them immediately. I'd prefer it if you at least changed those filthy clothes, but there isn't time. Get!"

      As if they were sixteen again, the pair scrambled towards the front door, shoving each other and laughing. Eglantine's words had mostly bounced off their skulls, but they knew you either obeyed her or found somewhere else to sleep, because She Will Get You.

      Diamond clutched her skirts anxiously, eyes darting about as she listened to her parents exchanging pleasantries with the Smial elders. Laurel patted her arm sympathetically.

      Laughter and words drifted from around behind the edge of the hill. To keep her mind off the conversation around her, she listened to the voices drifting on the breeze.

      "Maybe she's... thing you ever... or something..."

      Then, to her mortification, the owners of the voices came into view. It was a pair of extremely tall, highly attractive hobbits teasing and shoving each other. They didn't look alike, but they behaved like brothers. Long‑time friends, maybe?

      "Pippin! There you are! Get over here!"

      The shorter of the two grinned sheepishly and left his friend, walking over to the conflagration of hobbitry. "Aye, Father?"

      An older hobbit‑who looked remarkably like the younger hobbit, obviously his son‑gestured at Diamond's parents. "This is Tiberius and Sage, from Long‑Cleave. Over there is Diamond."

      It took Diamond only a split second to realize that this was Peregrine, the hobbit she had been promised to. She swallowed hard, suddenly feeling lightheaded. 

      Peregrine‑or Pippin, as his family called him‑walked over and promptly shook hands with Laurel, nodding his head in greeting. "Hello, Diamond."

      Laurel let out a peal of laughter. "I'm afraid not, sir, I'm Laurel Honeycutt. This is Diamond." She grabbed Diamond's arm and pulled her forward sharply, nearly making her stumble. Diamond flushed, as did Pippin in wake of his mistake.

      "I'm sorry. I didn't see you. I'm Pippin." He extended his hand again.

      "Diamond," said Diamond softly, accepting the offered hand, then pulling back an instant later. She watched him closely, both looking for a reaction and examining the hobbit she was to marry.

      He was tall, at least six inches taller than her, probably more. He had a crazy mop of honey‑blonde hair and smoky green eyes, and well‑defined facial features. There were a few freckles here and there, but she wasn't sure if that was freckles or dirt. He'd obviously been mucking about with his friend and was covered in dirt and grass stains from head to toe. He looked more like a child than an adult. However, he was far too muscular to be childish. She flushed anew at the thought.

      Meanwhile, Pippin was sizing up the hobbit lass before her. Red‑brown ringlets that tumbled down past her waist, gold‑brown eyes, a delicate look to her features, rather pretty all around. But extremely nervous. Pippin fought down his own anxiety and fought to maintain a nonchalant exterior. He could hear Merry snickering off to one side. He'd pay for that later.

      "Nice to finally meet you," said Pippin. "I have to go, I'm a bloody mess." He gave her a roguish grin, then retreated with amazing speed into the Smial, Merry trailing behind.

      "That was absolutely terrifying," said Pippin the instant the door was closed. "Just kill me and get it over with."

      Merry collapsed in hysterical laughter. A moment later Pippin followed suit, letting off steam through merriment.


	4. To Harass A Hobbit

Chapter Four

      "Pippin, you up for a bit of mischief?"

      Pippin rolled his head back and gave Merry a look that said plainly, "stupid question." "Merry, my parents will have me publicly drawn and quartered if I do anything to make the Tooks look like a rabble of blithering idiots."

      Merry grinned crookedly and was about to make a less than flattering remark, but Pippin gave his cousin a mild kick in the knee. "Don't bring all that up, Merry, it's extremely ancient history."

      "If you insist. Got any more leaf?"

      Pippin produced a small leather sack from his pocket. Merry took it and fished some leaves out, stuffed them in the bowl of his pipe, and lit it with a nearby candle. He then sat next to Pippin on the bench, puffing away at his pipe (again.)

      "You smoke enough weed for five other hobbits," said Pippin, shaking the ash out of his own pipe. "Always walking about with a pipe in your hand and smoke hanging around your head like a gray halo."

      "Aye," Merry agreed amiably. "And you smoke only when either stressed or nervous, and I know you're both at the moment. Want to talk?" He blew a rather wobbly smoke ring and watched it float away over the quasi‑dignified crowd of dressed‑up hobbits.

      Pippin shook his head and stuck his pipe in his pocket. "Not with a great crowd of strangers around us. But Merry, this is the greatest bunch of fraudulence I've ever seen."

      "How so?"

      "Everyone here wants to be somewhere else, and only stay out of politeness, which is silly because no one wants to stay anyway, but for the pastries. And all the out‑of‑towners are high‑strung, it's not a fun party." Pippin gestured at the tense gathering vaguely.

      Merry leaned back and shrugged. "Maybe so, but I think you're seeing what you feel in everyone else rather than the truth."

      "You're getting far too insightful, it's scaring me." Pippin chewed nervously on his thumbnail, then sighed. "See that russet‑haired lass there? In the green dress?"

      "Aye."

      "I'm supposed to marry her in three days' time. I don't even know her. How did that work out?" Pippin cocked his head to one side thoughtfully, as if pondering the mysteries of the universe.

      Merry shrugged, gnawing on his pipe‑stem. "One thing led to another, I suppose. But there's no way out of it now. Get to know her, at least‑ you'll know what to expect to some extent when you and her jump the broom."

      Pippin growled and shoved Merry off the bench with a thump. "Shut up. You're being a great big annoyance."

      "Look at yourself!" Merry retorted, standing up and rubbing his bottom, then examining his now‑spilled pipe bowl with a frown. "Calm down."

      Thoroughly annoyed, Pippin stood and stalked off in the general direction of the ale barrels.

* * *

      "Mother, can I go? Please? I have a frightful headache," said Diamond, desperately wanting a way out of this mental torture.

      "You've been here a scant half‑hour," Sage whispered back. "When an hour is spent you may go back into the smial."

      Diamond rolled her eyes and stomped away, looking highly unladylike. Not that she cared at this point. All she wanted was to escape. Perhaps to Lothlorien, or maybe Mirkwood. She was so desperate she would ever consider Mordor as a future homestead, so long as she was single when she got there. And no one holding any sort of betrothal agreement within a hundred miles.

      "Diamond, are you all right? You look ill," said Laurel, appearing at her friend's right elbow. Laurel was like a bloodhound when it came to emotional distress.

      "I want out of this place," Diamond whispered, shaking her head. "I've suddenly found that I can't stand the Shire."

      Laurel's brows knitted in concern. "Surely you don't mean that, Diamond. Of course it's not what it used to be‑ the trees are all saplings, there are more graves than there ought, but it's not terrible. Why this sudden wanderlust?"

      Diamond laughed, but not pleasantly. "I don't want to be tied to a hobbit I don't even know. Besides, you know me‑ I want to do something and not have my family breathing down my neck like vultures. I want freedom, and I don't expect I shall ever get it."

      Laurel watched Diamond with some concern. Diamond was moody, true, she could swing from giddy to angry to depressed in the time it took most people to decide between water or milk to drink. But something this extreme Laurel had never seen‑ or maybe Diamond just never let her.

      "Perhaps you should retire," said Laurel mildly. "I'll explain to your mum, don't worry. Go and take a bath or something."

      Diamond gave her friend a grateful look, then hitched up her skirts and ran towards the Great Smials, desiring nothing more than silence and a good book.

      "OOF!"

      "Ow!"

      Diamond suddenly found herself flat on her back, staring in shock at the night sky. What on earth...?

      "I'm dreadfully sorry..."

      Diamond pushed herself up on her elbows. When she recognized the hobbit she had gone crashing into, who was climbing to his feet not a foot away, she flushed tomato‑red.

      "Let help you up." Pippin extended a hand to the flustered lass on the ground. He couldn't make out her face here, beyond the firelight. She grasped his hand and he pulled her to her feet.

      "Thank you," said Diamond softly, brushing dirt from her skirts. Of all the people I could have run into...

      "I'm sorry, it was my fault," said Pippin. "Where were you going?"

      Diamond kept her gaze firmly on the ground. "My room in the smial," she replied.

      "I'll escort you there if you like. I'm headed there myself."

      Panic swelled in Diamond's chest, but she shoved it down (no small feat for the excitable girl) and nodded.

      "All right then."

      They started off towards the low, long hill that was the Great Smials. Diamond concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, keeping her gaze firmly on the ground. She had no desire to engage in conversation with Pippin‑ she just wanted to go hide.

      "What's your name, miss?"

      Diamond's head snapped up. "Um, Diamond," she said, flushing furiously. She saw a faint blush spread over Pippin's face and he looked everywhere but at her.

      "Uh... sorry," he said sheepishly, talking to his feet. "I didn't see your face."

      "That's all right."

      They walked the rest of the way to the smial in silence. When they reached the closest entrance, Diamond turned to thank Pippin as etiquette demanded.

      "Thank you for escorting me," she said, voice just above a whisper.

      Pippin bit his lip, then‑surprising himself just as much as Diamond‑"Do you want to marry me?" 

      Diamond's jaw dropped slightly and she stared at Pippin, rather aghast. She swallowed hard and forced herself to speak. "By no means. I'm only thirty-two years old, I should be behaving like a silly girl and getting into trouble rather than marrying anyone, let alone a complete stranger. But it's not my choice‑ my father arranged it, and Tiberius Took's word is law." She shrugged helplessly. "I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place."

      "Sounds familiar," said Pippin dryly. He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Well, I'd better go." He half‑turned, then turned again sharply. "By the way, my parents forced me into this too. At least we have something in common." He gave a wan smile, then went his way.

      Diamond spun on her heel and went inside, practically bolting for her room. That was disconcerting, she thought, and wished more fervently than ever that she was home.

* * *

      Pippin felt like kicking himself. He hadn't recognized her at all, and had thus made an utter fool of himself. But then, he'd avoided any social interaction beyond Merry all day‑ he could hardly be blamed for not knowing who she was.

      But on the other hand, he should be ashamed of himself, came a sneaky thought that sounded suspiciously like his mother's voice. She was going to be his wife in just over two days.

      The idea made him feel rather ill.

      I wish Gandalf were here, Pippin thought suddenly. He'd know what to do. Or even Gimli, or Legolas, or even Frodo would know better than I how to handle this insanity. Merry doesn't count‑ he's no more use than a sack of potatoes. Oh for heaven's sakes, I'd even be happy for Arwen's advice.

      He vaguely noticed that all the people mentioned had been involved in his one‑year escapade. Well, such things forge friendships that last longer than lifetimes. You can't share a foxhole with someone, tend each other's wounds and fight Orcs together, or face down Ring‑Wraiths together, and not trust that person with your very soul. 

      "My kingdom for an Ent with words of wisdom," Pippin muttered disconsolately. "Or even an Elf, cryptic as they are."

      "Are you all right?"

      Pippin looked up and saw his sister, Pearl, looking at him with not inconsiderable concern. She was a full fifteen years his senior, and already had three children. Pippin had never been very close to her, but right now he was thankful for any willing ear beyond Merry's.

      "Not in the least bit," said Pippin honestly. "How would you feel if you were to marry a complete stranger?"

      Pearl shook her head. "Pippin, it's not so bad. I've spoken with Diamond, and she seems a nice girl. A bit moody, but pleasant. Would you rather wed some cranky old wench?"

      "You're not listening," said Pippin. "It had nothing to do with her personality, or what she looks like‑ it's the fact that before today I had no idea who she was, that Father didn't consult me in the least bit, my life is going to completely change in two days, and the only one who understands I really don't want to spend that much time with, because in two days' time I'm going to be spending almost all my time with her."

      Pearl didn't know how to respond to this. "Well, I haven't any words of wisdom for you, Pip‑ but cheer up. The world isn't about to end."

      "It's not you though, is it?" Pippin scoffed. "You're not in my shoes."

      Pearl pursed her lips, looking rather irritated. "Oh grow up. This is reality, now deal with it." She stomped away.

      Pippin sighed from his toes as he watched his elder sister march away, proverbial steam pouring out her ears. Pearl always was easily annoyed.

      "She's got a point," Pippin grudgingly admitted to himself. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to listen."

* * *

      Diamond flopped backwards on the ludicrously comfortable feather‑down bed, staring at the curved ceiling. Strange patterns of light and shadow drifted across it as the curtains flapped.

      Pippin seems all right‑ but then, will I say the same in a year's time? I don't want to end up like my parents. I know arranged marriages are rare‑only the political families ever do them, and almost never‑but did it have to be me?

      Diamond sat up with a frustrated sound. "Stop moping," she muttered to herself. She swung herself off the bed and sat in front of the small vanity. Pausing a moment to light the solitary candle, she watched herself in the mirror.

      "I wonder if he likes me," she murmured. "In looks, anyway."

      Diamond had never considered herself particularly pretty, just plain. True, she had been a ratty‑haired, dirt‑smeared terror as a child, but she had yet to see that she really was rather striking. All she saw in the mirror was a too‑small nose, a face dominated by brown eyes that she was convinced were the color of mud, and she had Big Hair. Frizzy, terribly annoying, and always in the way.

      "Well, nothing I can do about it," she said firmly, surprising herself. "Nothing I can do about anything at this point, really. So just go along with it and try not to go mad, will you?"


	5. Zero Hour

Chapter Five 

The next two days were no more than a vague blur in Diamond's memory, punctuated only by meeting the rest of her soon-to-be-new relatives over the forty-eight hours before the wedding.

She could hardly believe it when she woke up at dawn and realized- she was getting married today.

"Diamond!  Time to get up!" Laurel jumped up on the bed, grinning.  Diamond groaned and rolled off the bed with a dull thump.  It wasn't that she hated mornings, it was just that she hated this particular morning with a vengeance.

"Must I?"

"I'm afraid you must, and your mum says to get dressed quick and come to the dining room for breakfast.  The ceremony's at ten, so we haven't a great lot of time to get you ready."

"Don't remind me," Diamond muttered mutinously.  She stood and shuffled over to the chest at the foot of the bed- inside were her clothes.  Most of her things had already been transferred to wherever she was going to be living, but this one small chest of clothing had been left with her.  For half an instant she vaguely wished for her old toys, but banished the thought just as quickly.  She was thirty-two years old, not fifteen.

"Well, hurry up, then," said Laurel brightly, and then she was gone.  Diamond sighed and set about getting ready for the day.

Breakfast was usually a rowdy affair, taking over an hour to get through, but that morning it was even more so than usual.  Everyone was talking, laughing, and stuffing themselves to the gills.  To add insult to injury, whoever was cooking that morning had made flapjacks, sausage, porridge, and toast.

Diamond's favorite.

At that point, she just wanted to go and maim someone.  They were trying to make her feel better about the completely ludicrous affair, and all they had accomplished was  to get her hacked off.

"Diamond!  There you are!  Well, hurry up and eat girl, we've a lot to do this morning." Sage pushed her roughly from behind towards the long table.  Diamond almost tripped and fell, but caught herself just in time.  She whirled on her mother.            

"I'm not hungry," said Diamond, eyes positively Antarctic, her voice even more so.  "I'm going to go take a walk for a bit."

"Diamond-"

"I'll be back in three-quarters of an hour." Without waiting for a reply Diamond pushed past her mother and found her way to the exit.

She practically ran towards the front door and burst out into the pale morning sunshine, trying desperately not to break down in hysterical sobbing.  Two months before she hadn't a care in the world beyond avoiding spring-cleaning, now she had to deal with an entire army of hobbits she'd never seen before in her life and before midday she would be wed to a complete and utter stranger.  She leaned heavily on a convenient tree, trying to control herself.

"You all right, miss?"

Diamond jumped and whirled.  She calmed when she realized it wasn't Pippin; rather it was the dark-haired, blue-eyed hobbit Pippin was always around.  She didn't remember his name, but from the way he was looking at her he obviously knew who_ she_ was.

"You're Diamond, right?"

Diamond nodded warily.  "Aye.  And, you are...?"

"Meriadoc Brandybuck.  Most folks call me Merry.  I'm a friend of Pippin's," said Merry, extending a hand in greeting.  Diamond quickly shook his hand and pulled back.

"Nice to meet you... I guess," she said lamely.  Merry grinned impishly, and Diamond felt herself warming to this tall, rather attractive hobbit.

"You look like you could use a nice, long talk.  My ear's open.  We'll walk and talk." Merry gestured at a well-worn path and wound away behind the Smials towards the woods.

Diamond didn't really mean to pour out her soul when she went on that short walk with Merry, but something about his laid-back manner and quick wit made her dump her entire sob story into his lap.  Obviously he'd heard the same sort of stuff from Pippin and took it all in stride.

"And that's the whole pathetic story," Diamond finished. "It's rather silly, I suppose-"

"Not at all," said Merry, shaking his head.  "I'd feel the same way, in your situation.  I know Pippin does."

"Really?"

"Certainly.  Don't tell him I said that, though," Merry added, a teasing sparkle flickering in his azure eyes.  "He thinks I hold everything he says in the strictest confidence."

Something about the way Merry said it made Diamond giggle, smiling for the first time in almost three days.  "You're a bit of a turncoat, aren't you?"

Merry gave her a mock-scandalized look.  "Me?  Turncoat? How absurd," he replied, trying not to smile.  "No, just when I think something out to be told, I tell it.  Which isn't often.  I just thought you'd like to know you're in a bloody mess, but at least you've got company."

"What's Pippin like?" asked Diamond suddenly.  Merry looked rather surprised by the question.

"Well- he's easy to make fun of.  Mostly a cheerful, friendly bloke, although lately he's been rather... touchy.   Tries to make the best of things- usually, anyway.  He seems to have got himself awful wound up about this whole mess." Merry shrugged.  "Other than that- he hates peas and ashcakes, adores melon, and otherwise will eat absolutely anything."

Diamond grinned easily.  "Thanks for the warning, Merry."

Merry returned the smile, eyes twinkling playfully.  "You're more than welcome."

By now they had come within sight of the Great Smials again.  Diamond started to say good-bye to Merry, but Sage came running from nowhere and dragged her away, babbling something about time and veils.

Not really registering what was going on, Diamond was bodily taken to a tent set up near where the wedding pavilion had been pitched.  Inside was everything a bride-to-be might need, and a few she didn't.  Without wasting a second, she was set in a chair and Laurel began doing her hair while Ermine, the other bridesmaid, got the dress ready.  Sage had vanished after dropping Diamond off and was apparently fussing at someone over floral arrangements, judging from the noise outside.

"You're going to look absolutely smashing," Laurel gushed, making tiny braids in Diamond's curly hair.  "Lots of little braids and yellow ribbons."

Diamond merely sighed and let Laurel do what she wanted with her hair.

It took almost an hour just to fix Diamond's hair to Laurel and Ermine's satisfaction.  Then, without even the slightest peek into a looking glass, it was into the dress she went.  Diamond stared at the embroidered flowers climbing the skirt while Ermine fussed over her.

"Now, all you need is the veil and headpiece and your bouquet and you'll be ready," said Ermine in a breathless sort of way.  The willowy redhead–a solid six years younger than Diamond–was rather overexcited.  "They should be here in a moment."

Diamond nodded vaguely, not really paying attention.  She was too busy trying to convince herself it wasn't really happening, that she was still asleep in her bed at home in Long Cleave and that the whole affair was just a bad dream.

Something pricked her scalp.  Diamond jumped.  Sage gave a small noise of annoyance.  "Hold still, or I shan't get it on right." She was attaching the headpiece to Diamond's hair with tiny hairpins; they were sharp and Diamond almost thought the tiny prick might be bleeding- but it wasn't, of course.

"What time is it?"

"Half past nine.  Quiet, I need to get this fixed on properly."

The only thought in Diamond's mind was that her mother wasn't very sad about losing her daughter.

*   *   *

Fifteen minutes.  Pippin glowered at the mantel clock.  If he could have, he would've turned back time a few hours and took off running for the Grey Havens.

"Nervous?"

Pippin jumped.  Merry grinned impishly, blue eyes dancing with mirth.  "No," said Pippin sharply.  "Just..."

"Nervous?"

Pippin sighed heavily.  "Yes."

Merry laughed and clapped his cousin on the shoulder.  "So is she," he said, as if this were supposed to be comforting.  "Hacked off, but nervous."

"And how would you know?"

Merry shrugged.  "Took a walk with her this morning.  She's a nice girl, once you get past the moody bit."

"Moody bit?"

"Well, yes- all her other bits are quite nice too, though." He grinned playfully.  Pippin rolled his eyes.

"Only you, Merry.  Only you."

"But of course.  I don't dare be unoriginal- I have a reputation to uphold, Took."

"What reputation?"

Merry was about to retort, but Pippin's sister Pervinca stuck her head in the doorway.  "Time for it, Pip," she said.

"All right," said Pippin wearily.  "Come on Meriadoc, you're going to keep me from hurting myself when I pass out."

*   *   *

Diamond was standing just outside the large wedding tent, holding her bouquet in a white-knuckled grip and trying not to hyperventilate.  Tiberius gave her a sympathetic look, but he didn't offer a convenient lifeline.

"Ready, love?"

"I'll never be ready, Papa," said Diamond wearily.  "But I am resigned, and that is enough for now."

Tiberius nodded, brow crinkling slightly.  Then he made a gesture and took his daughter's arm in his own.  Music started up inside and Laurel went in, followed swiftly by Ermine.  They waited three, four, five heartbeats, and then Diamond and her father went inside.

All the hobbits within stood to get a better view of the bride.  Diamond ignored them all, focusing her gaze on the bouquet above the Mayor's lectern.  It kept her calm, trying to name all the flowers as she was marched steadily towards her fate.

Then they were there.  Tiberius released his daughter, giving her hand one last squeeze, and stepped to the side.  She stepped up to the lectern and stood beside Pippin, who looked just as nervous if not more so than her, constantly tugging at his clothes.

Mayor Gamgee cleared his throat, and began.

Diamond fazed out, examining her bouquet as if her life depended on it.  She paid no attention whatsoever to the ceremony- it was all just too surreal for her.  She spoke when necessary, not noticing what she said, her mind far from where she was.

Until Pippin slipped a slender silver band over her finger, obediently murmuring what Mayer Gamgee told him to.  A cold shock ran down her spine.  _This is it,_ she thought.

Then another ring was thrust into her own hand, the Mayor prompting her to repeat after her.  She did as she was told, examining the ring she was placing on Pippin's hand to keep herself from screaming.

It was silver, like hers, but larger and with a wider band.  Elvish words were engraved on the inside, she noticed- there was probably some on her own ring as well.

Then it was all over.  Unlike the human custom, hobbits did not end the ceremony with a kiss- rather, everyone yelled at the top of their lungs, threw confetti (because they would never waste rice that way, these _are_ hobbits we're talking about here) and then ran for the refreshments.  Diamond giggled hysterically and let herself be dragged towards the food.

_That wasn't so bad._

*   *   *

The hobbits danced until long past midnight, eating and laughing the whole time.  Fireworks went up periodically, and although they were quite splendid several hobbits that had been to the Party commented that they weren't nearly as spectacular as Gandalf's infamous light display.

Diamond enjoyed herself as much as possible while avoiding her new husband just as fervently.  She didn't want to reminded of her new position as Married Hobbit-Woman at all- rather, she would laugh with her friends and pretend tomorrow would never come.

At the end of the party an entire enclave of rather drunk, loudly singing hobbits escorted the new couple to the little house that was now theirs.  Both Diamond and Pippin were laughing- more from the infectious mood of the others than anything else.

When they were inside with the door closed behind them, and the voices of their relatives and friends slowly vanished from hearing, reality came swarming back.  They stood there, staring at each other in uncertainty, for almost five minutes.

"Well," Diamond said uncomfortably.  "Here we are."

Pippin nodded slowly.  "That we are."

There was another long, tense pause.  Then Diamond sighed explosively and went down the hallway.

"My mother said there's a guest room somewhere, I'll sleep there and you can have the master bedroom."

Pippin couldn't pretend to be unhappy with this arrangement.  He had no inclination to share a bed with a stranger.

And so the new couple—made so by politics and parents, not their own free will—spent the first of many nights in separate bedrooms, down separate hallways.    


	6. Moments in Time

Chapter 6

Moments in Time

Diamond stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. It was raining and the sound of the droplets impacting the roof—it was a thatched roof, but still not as thick as that of a hobbit hole—kept her awake. Other than the rain, it was silent, and silence breeds thoughts. In Diamond's case, however, not ideas or reflections- memories.

It had been two months since the marriage- two months full of awkward silences and awkward conversation. She and Pippin never really interacted unless necessary. She did what was needed, such as cooking and mending clothes and cleaning and looking after the kitchen garden, and Pippin vanished just after breakfast and didn't come back until tea. Diamond did not know where he went and frankly did not care.

Diamond let out a frustrated sigh, knowing she would never fall asleep. She rose, wrapped a dressing gown around herself, and headed towards the kitchen.

As in most hobbit dwellings, the kitchen is one of the largest rooms in the house, coming second in importance only to the dining room and the master bedroom. Diamond enjoyed the space- it was no larger than her mother's kitchen in Long Cleave, but it had fewer knick-knacks and it was most definitely _her_ kitchen. Pippin never came in while she was there.

Diamond lit a candle, then took a mug from the cabinet, set it on the rough table, and made herself tea using the still-warm water in the kettle. She was just sitting down when the door opened.

Pippin shuffled in, wearing his green plaid dressing gown and red slippers, his hair standing up in strange configurations. He did not even acknowledge her presence before finding his own cup and filling it with tea from Diamond's prepared pot. He sat down opposite her and watched the steam rising.

"What are you doing in here?" Diamond asked, more out of a need for conversation than anything else.

Pippin finally seemed to realize he had company and shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

"Me neither. I'm not used to rain being so noisy; at home I could barely hear it."

Pippin nodded absently and sipped his tea. "Mmm."

Diamond watched him for a moment and laughed. "You look awful, Pippin. Like the cat dragged you in. Why couldn't you sleep?"

"Bad dreams."

"About what?"

He did not answer. Diamond waited, but still no reply was forthcoming.

"Something personal?" she inquired gently.

Pippin made a so-so gesture. "About that Ring business. Crazy, the whole lot of it, but it's not something that goes away."

"Not even after nine years?"

"Not even. Not after ninety years, I suspect. You don't quickly forget seeing a tree talk, or watching friends die."

Diamond bit her lip and ran a finger along the rim of her mug. She did not know what to say to that, and so said nothing. As expected, Pippin eventually filled up the verbal black hole with his own words.

"What's your family like?" he asked, fixing his green eyes on her. Diamond noticed, not for the first time, that they were very nice eyes.

"Mad, that's what. My father never listens to anyone but himself, even though I love him dearly. He is not as bad as my mum, though- sometimes I think she's angry at the world. Can't imagine why, though."

"Any siblings, cousins?" Pippin actually seemed interested, which was surprising. But then, Pippin was very family oriented- Diamond, however, was not.

"No. I'm an only child. So is my mum. My father has two sisters, but one ran off to Bree and the other died in childbirth. So did the baby. So no, haven't any family beyond my parents."

"Sounds lonely."

"A little. I spent a lot of time with Laurel."

"Ah. Her."

"Yes. She's like the sister I never had."

"Sounds like Merry and I- but brothers, of course. We're pretty much the maddest blokes in the Shire, seems sometimes."

"And most famous."

Pippin shrugged, but could not hide a small smile. "A bit."

Diamond chewed her lip. "That's what started all this," she said softly. "You being famous."

The two fell into silence.

Diamond stood after a moment, leaving her mug, having not drunk a single drop of its contents. "Good night, Pippin."

"Good night."

When Diamond reached her room, she realized it was the longest conversation they had ever had. In some vague way, it made her sad.

Then she shook it off and went to bed.

* * *

That was the last time it rained that year- the temperature dropped sharply, the leaves on trees finally vanished for good, and the first snowfall came on a quiet night with only the animals to watch it.

Diamond hated cold weather. Hated it with a passion, in fact, matched only by Pippin's equal loathing of hot weather. Pippin ran off with his cousin and some other lads about town as if he were no more than twenty, pelting anyone within thirty feet with snowballs.

Around noon Pippin returned, as flushed and giddy as a child. He grabbed Diamond by the wrists and literally dragged her into the foyer.

"You can't stay cooped up like an old biddy," he said sensibly, although he was grinning too widely for it to really matter. "Come on! It was Merry's idea."

"It's cold!" Diamond protested, trying to wriggle away and failing miserably. "I'll catch a chill!"

"No you won't," Pippin scoffed. "Come on!"

After a fifteen-minute struggle Pippin managed to force Diamond into her winter things and outside. Just as he had said, Merry and two other hobbits were waiting outside.

"There she is!" Merry cried dramatically, sweeping Diamond into a bear hug. "I half-thought you'd vanished into nothingness!"

"Not quite," Diamond said as she pried herself out of Merry's grip. The two other hobbits quickly introduced themselves as Rory Underhill and Robin Brandybuck, and then shoved Diamond into a snowdrift.

Diamond came out shrieking in combined cold and outrage and chased Robin down the road, the other three trailing behind and laughing. A few minutes later a snowball fight of immense proportions was spawned, and by the time it was over any one of them could have passed for a mobile snowdrift.

That was the most fun Diamond had since she'd left Long Cleave. Even though it was cold, and wet, and she made a fool of herself, it was wonderful to forget her inhibitions and act like the youth she was. 

"I never knew you had it in you," Pippin teased as they tromped towards home in the lengthening shadows. "I'm impressed." He was referring to Diamond having flattened Merry into the snow.

Diamond grinned. "There's a lot you don't know about me." After that day, having a normal, friendly conversation with Pippin was much easier and much more natural. How can you not be friends with someone you've thrown snowballs with?

Pippin nodded. "Aye, that's true. Very true. I'd like to fix that, though."

Diamond nodded, trying not to trip on her heavy skirts. "So would I. I truly do want to know you, Pippin." Then she smothered a hysterical giggle in her collar.

"What?"

"Nothing."

The rest of the one-mile slog through the snow went in companionable silence, which neither minded. They were slowly growing accustomed to each other's company, and to their surprise were finding it wonderfully pleasant.

They did not speak again until they reached the entryway of the little house and were unwinding their scarves. "You said something about farming yesterday," said Diamond absently. "What was that about?"

"Hmm? Oh." Pippin finished shrugging off his heavy coat before answering. "This house came with a modest piece of land. I'd like to grow something on it, but I'm not sure what."

"Corn would do well," Diamond replied. "Know anything about it?"

"Not in the slightest."

"My papa had me help with the farming- I know more than I ever wanted to about the subject. I'll help when the time comes."

"That's agreeable," said Pippin. He finished removing his outside-things and took them to the washroom, along with Diamond's. Diamond went to find her brush, and the conversation was over. 

That night, Diamond dreamed of ice palaces and haunting green eyes, teasing her from frozen mirrors.

* * *

Time slipped by, as it so often does. Diamond took to knitting by the fireside when she wasn't cleaning house or running about being silly with Pippin. Pippin, on the other hand, spent almost all of his time larking about with his friends and getting into trouble, occasionally riding off to the Great Smials on family or political matters. Winter was a time of rest for nature; thus it was with hobbits. Nothing much of anything ever happened. Even Yule passed by without any particular fuss and bother beyond a trip to the Smials.

Except one night, when a particularly fierce storm blew up. Diamond's window rattled loose and a ferociously cold draft blew in regardless of how many blankets she shoved into the frame. The bedroom was soon just as cold as outdoors. Shivering violently, Diamond threw a robe over her nightgown and left the room to freeze on its own, closing the door and stuffing a towel into the gap between it and the floor. It was far warmer in the hallways and main rooms of the small domicile, but Diamond had nowhere to sleep at all. She had stuffed all her blankets into the window, and the sofa was in no way suitable for overnight occupancy. It was only eleven thirty according to the clock on the kitchen mantelpiece, far too soon to wake.

So Diamond swallowed what little dignity and pride she had and knocked on Pippin's door.

A sleepy snuffling noise came from within, and a half-asleep Pippin opened the door and looked blearily at her. "Huh?"

"My room has a dreadful draft and I've nowhere to sleep."

Pippin looked at her, sleepily digesting this and trying to figure out what she wanted, then grunted and went back into the room. He didn't close the door, which Diamond took as a good sign. She slipped in behind him, closing the door. There was a small fireplace with smoldering coals in here, and she wanted to keep the heat in.

Pippin had flopped back in the rather large bed. He eyed her questioningly for a moment, then grunted, waved vaguely at the other side of it, and stuck his head under his pillow. Diamond tried not to giggle- not merely because she was uncomfortable with the entire situation, but also because Pippin seemed like a sleep-deprived child. It was rather funny.

Being as quiet as possible so as not to disturb Pippin, Diamond removed her robe and set it on the rocking chair near the fire. She noticed a small alcove with a little cradle in it, now covered in Pippin's discarded clothing. She suddenly remembered that this was the master bedroom and felt rather annoyed at whoever had put the chair and cradle there. They had been assuming a great deal.

Gingerly, Diamond went around the bed and climbed in on the left side. Pippin mumbled something, but was apparently already asleep again.

Facing the wall, Diamond settled in and sighed. She hadn't thought this would ever happen. She wondered what would happen in the morning.

Smiling to herself over the rather ludicrous images she conjured up, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Pippin was not awake, but he was not asleep either. He was comfortably warm and sleepy and didn't feel like getting up just yet. The bedroom was still dark; whether from snow on the windows or that the sun hadn't risen he neither knew nor cared.

The bed shifted, apparently all by itself. This wouldn't have concerned Pippin, who was all but asleep, but then something warm pressed against his backside. Instantly he awoke and sat up, confused.

Diamond was curled up in a ball beside him, clutching a pillow and murmuring softly in her sleep. Her hair was going every-which-way and she looked far more vulnerable than he'd ever seen her.

It took Pippin only a moment to remember- she'd shown up in the middle of the night claiming she was cold and needed somewhere to sleep. Pippin had been half-asleep himself and didn't care one way or the other at the time.

Being as quiet as possible, Pippin got up and dressed. He left Diamond alone, if she wanted to sleep he wasn't going to stop her. Besides, she looked so cute there he didn't want to ruin the picture.

For a moment it surprised him, how easily he had adjusted to waking up and finding Diamond asleep beside him. But compared to sleeping next to Merry in an Ent bed full of pointy twigs, it was nothing. Pippin smiled sardonically to himself as he meandered into the kitchen, recalling his long-past adventures.

But still, why did it seem so normal? He had been living with the woman for nearly three months, and still didn't know her all that well. He had thought that he might have reacted differently normally, instead of just shrugging it off and going to find breakfast.

But he was very hungry…

Pippin decided to forget about it and went looking for the muffins.

* * *

The next three months went much the same. Pippin and Diamond became friends, if not the closest in the world then at least they could hold a decent conversation. By the time spring came around, Diamond no longer fumed over her arranged marriage and Pippin actually spent time around the house. They were good friends, but nothing more. Neither one could handle the idea of being more than that, despite the fact that, despise it as they might, they were married. Which among hobbits meant until one or the other died- divorce was unheard of.

And so winter slid quietly into spring, then summer…


	7. The Green Eyed Monster

A/N- this chapter's title refers mostly to jealousy, but also to Pippin in a slight way… read and see. ::mwahaha::

The Green Eyed-Monster

Diamond pored over the selection of yarn, chewing on her thumbnail. She needed a light violet color, and she saw several skeins of the right shade, but it was all of the wrong texture and would ruin the entire afghan.

"I have some others," said Mrs. Applegate nervously. Indeed, everything about her manner and personality in general could be described as nervous. She seemed in constant fear of being reprimanded. "Different colors, if you'd like."

Diamond waved vaguely. She selected a forest green ball of yarn—of lovely soft weave, unlike the violet stuff—and handed it to the brunette. "Have you got any light violet of that texture?"

"Afraid not. I have lavender, though." She produced another basket of yarn from apparently nowhere. Diamond looked over its contents and found a ball of about the right color, and about the right texture. She nodded.

"Three of those, and that green one there."

Diamond paid for her purchases, slipping them into the large basket hanging off her elbow. That morning it had been full of eggs, which had been sold. Diamond had made such a good turn off the eggs that she had decided to replenish her yarn supply- the blanket she was making for Laurel and her soon-to-be bridegroom was taking up a great deal of yarn, and every little bit helped.

Diamond headed away down the lane, leaving the bustling sounds of the open market behind her. It was a solid two and a half miles to the house, but Diamond didn't mind. She rather liked the long walk- it gave her time to think without outside distractions. 

It was early August now, ten months since Diamond had left Long Cleave. She had settled into a life that, while not particularly exhilarating, was comfortable. She was content in her home and in her new life, even if she often wished to be home running about with Laurel, or chasing ducks across the farm.

In three days Diamond and Pippin would be loading up a small pony-cart and making the two-day journey to Long Cleave for the marriage of Laurel Honeycutt and Randy Talbot. If Diamond had to knit until her fingers fell off she would have that dratted afghan finished before their arrival. They were to visit for two days, attend the wedding, and then start back next morning. Merry had volunteered to stay at the house and look after the chickens and the garden.

Diamond was running over a list in her head of what she had to pack when she walked into the house, setting her shawl on a small table by the door. "Pippin?"

She didn't actually expect an answer, and was startled when Pippin's voice drifted out from the parlor. "In here, Diamond."

Diamond set down her basket and padded into the parlor. Pippin and his elder sister, Pervinca, and her husband Erling. Pervinca was five years older than Pippin, but her youthful manner and rosy complexion made her seem much younger than her only brother. She smiled broadly at Diamond.

"Diamond! We were just stopping by to say hello, see how you're getting on. Things look absolutely wonderful!"

"You could say that," said Diamond mildly. "You're welcome to stay for supper, of course."

"Oh, no, we were just about to leave." As Pervinca spoke Diamond noted that she had her shawl wrapped about her and that Erling had donned his hat. They weren't just being polite, then.

"If you're sure."

"Of course. Well, we'll be going then." Pervinca breezed past with Erling in tow, who seemed rather bemused. Diamond didn't bother seeing them to the door- at any rate, they had got outside before Diamond could really digest what was going on.

"She's a bit breezy," said Pippin, smiling sheepishly. "How'd the eggs sell? You're home awfully late." The sun was setting and Diamond had left around nine that morning.

"I sold all of them, and I bought a bit of yarn. Things go all right?"

"Yes."

This was a case in point of Pippin and Diamond's relationship. They were friends who lived together, nothing more.

"I'll get supper going, if you lay the table."

* * *

"LAUREL!"

"DIAMOND!"

The two women took what was practically a flying leap at each other, shrieking and laughing and crying all at the same time. They hugged tightly, then pulled away and began talking at a million miles a minute.

Pippin couldn't help but laugh as he watched them. Diamond had never looked so ludicrous, but she had never looked as happy either. He shook his head to himself as he began unloading the cart.

"Bit excited, isn't she?" said Randy mildly. Pippin raised an eyebrow and threw a parcel at him. He vaguely remembered him from his own wedding, and so no real introduction was necessary. 

"Which one?"

"Your Diamond. Never seen her so excited."

Pippin wanted to say that she wasn't really his, but didn't. It hurt somehow, but he wasn't sure why.

"She's an excitable creature. How do you know her?"

"Only lived next door since she was born. How're you getting on?"

Such inane conversation between the two hobbits continued in an aimless fashion as they unloaded the cart and brought the things inside. They were staying at Diamond's parent's house, what everyone else called Rose Briar and Diamond simply called home. Diamond felt a sinking feeling whenever she thought about staying there for the visit.

Diamond knew her mother. Knew her extremely well. Sage had always said the instant Diamond moved out her bedroom would become a craft room, and Diamond knew Sage was as good as her word. That left the spare room, which had only one bed.

And she would have to sleep in it. With Pippin. It wasn't that bad, but somehow the idea made her feel squeamish. She banished the thought quickly and continued talking with Laurel.

"I can't believe you're marrying Randy. The one who pulled our hair as children. The one you said was a dirty turnip-digger." Diamond was teasing, but Laurel blushed deeply.

"Well… things turn out odd. He's sweet," she said defensively. "But you know all about Randy. What about Pippin?"

Now Diamond flushed. She was suddenly glad Pippin was inside, and not out here where he could overhear. "I don't know. We're friends, and get along, and I think that is as far as it will ever go."

Laurel groaned. "You're ridiculous, Diamond. You've been married for ten months now! And-" she dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "do you mean you haven't-?"

"Of course not!" Diamond hissed.

"But then its not considered really binding, not by tradition."

"I can't very well pull up stakes and move out, can I?"

"No. But…" here Laurel grinned impishly, and her eyes took on a teasing gleam, "he's such an attractive hobbit, I'm rather surprised…"

Diamond blushed furiously and smacked Laurel on the shoulder, but giggled nevertheless. Laurel only laughed. But then Pippin and Randy appeared again, and Laurel's laughter and Diamond's embarrassed tittering were quickly muffled.

* * *

The day of the wedding dawned cold and clear.

Diamond arose just as the sun was breaking away from the horizon, tiptoeing out of the bedroom so as not to disturb Pippin. She ate quickly and went down the lane to Laurel's hobbit-hole.

Laurel was sitting at the kitchen table, hands trembling so badly that the tea in her cup sloshed onto the tabletop. She set down her cup with a clatter and tried to mop up the spilt tea with a small towel.

"Nervous?"

Laurel jumped, knocking over her cup with her elbow. She looked up at Diamond and grinned sheepishly. "Just a wee bit. I'm all of a dither, I don't know what to do."

Diamond sat beside her lifelong friend and cleaned up the mess. "I know just what to do," she said firmly. "Don't eat anything heavy, you're likely to vomit if you do from nerves. You'll have a calming cup of tea and whiskey, then a bath. That's what you ought to do."

Diamond poured her friend's drink, then filled the bathtub while Laurel gathered her wits about her. By nine o'clock Laurel was freshly bathed and having her curly brown hair combed by Diamond.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Laurel babbled. "I'm so nervous."

"Do you chose each other?"

"Of course!"

"Do you love him?"

Laurel didn't answer for a long moment, so long that Diamond set down her comb and gave her a quizzical look. Laurel sighed heavily and nodded. "Yes."

Diamond suddenly felt madly jealous. Laurel was far more nervous than she had been, and she was wedding a hobbit she had known most of her life and obviously loved dearly.

"You'll be fine," Diamond murmured, patting Laurel's shoulder. "If you have that much, you'll do all right."

"I'm sorry, Diamond, I know it's hard, being married like you are," said Laurel, glancing up at her friend. Diamond's expression was unfathomable. "Pippin is a wonderful hobbit. I'm sure that someday you'll learn to love each other."

Diamond shook her head and took up the comb again. "There aren't enough somedays for that, Laurel."

They did not speak of such again that day.

* * *

Laurel hadn't wanted bridesmaids, so Diamond was sitting in the front row inside the wedding tent during the ceremony. It was brief, concise, and terribly romantic compared to Diamond's wedding. Laurel and Randy kept making doe-eyes at each other.

Diamond was so jealous of them she felt physically sick with it. She wanted desperately to have the kind of life Laurel was setting out on- long and disgustingly happy.

Instead she had an arranged marriage with someone who was friendly enough, but she thought would never really love her.

She tried to tell herself she didn't care. But as Laurel and Randy were showered with confetti, she couldn't help but imagine that maybe she had married someone she loved to begin with. In her imagination they were happy and loving and would have children and grandchildren and when they were old and gray, they would sit together and just soak in each other's presence. 

That was all she could think of during the reception. Loud music played, and ale poured freely, and food was everywhere, but all Diamond could think of was her lost life.

Pippin had no such qualms. He was determinedly drinking himself into a fine stupor. Not just for the sake of being drunk, but because he too was madly jealous and rather than wallowing in despair was trying to drown his feelings in a tankard of beer.

"All right there, Pippin?" asked Randy, throwing himself into the seat beside Pippin. He was grinning broadly. "Quite a party, isn't it?"

"Quite," said Pippin morosely, staring at the froth at the bottom of his tankard. "Absolutely spiffing." He downed the remainder of the mug's contents and poured himself another from the flagon on the table. Randy frowned at him. 

"Upset about something?"

"More everything than something."

Randy shook his head and left Pippin to it. He knew when he shouldn't go treading into someone else's business, and this was definitely one of those times.

Diamond was a fine figure of a hobbit-woman, that was sure, Pippin thought miserably as he watched her talking with Laurel at another table. Quite beautiful, no matter what Diamond might think of herself. In Pippin's eyes she far outshone Laurel, who looked marvelous in her wedding dress and was glowing as only stupidly happy brides can.

But then, that was just the outside. Diamond kept him at arm's length. It was maddening. He might as well be married to a nun. 

Of course he was quite drunk at this point. Otherwise such thoughts would have never entered his head. 

Diamond noticed his morose expression. Excusing herself, she left Laurel and joined Pippin.

"Are you all right?"

"Wonderful," Pippin replied, taking another swig of ale. "You?"

Diamond narrowed her eyes at Pippin. Sniffing, she reached for a tankard and filled it.

"What're you doing?" Pippin asked, eyeing her with an odd mixture of curiosity, amusement, and horror on his face. He was slightly cross-eyed from all the ale he'd consumed.

"If you can get roaring drunk, then I can," Diamond said firmly. She knocked back half of the tankard's contents in one swallow, although it nearly came right back up again. The stuff tasted positively foul.

"How can you _drink_ this stuff?" she demanded. "It's disgusting."

Pippin shrugged. "Used to it."

Diamond cast him a disbelieving look, and then finished her ale. Pippin said nothing when she refilled it.

Within fifteen minutes Diamond was giggling hysterically and practically falling off her chair. She had consumed a fraction of what Pippin had and was a great deal worse off than he. Which was saying something, considering that Pippin rarely drank heavily.

"You're drunk," Pippin observed, grinning despite himself.

"So're you," Diamond said, then burst out in inebriated laughter. "The world's spinning."

"Happens."

"I don't like it here," Diamond declared in utter seriousness. "Too many happy people."

"Let's leave."

"All right."

The pair rose, leaving their tankards behind. Swaying and giggling, they held each other up as they walked up the path. No one noticed except Laurel, who only shook her head and smiled to herself.

They made their wobbly way towards Rose Briar, tripping and laughing as they went, both of them quite drunk. The door was, as always, unlocked, so they entered without notice.

"Ooh, I feel dizzy," Diamond muttered. "I need to lie down."

They wobbled into the guest bedroom. Diamond flopped onto the bed, giggling when she nearly rolled onto the floor. Pippin steadied her, though he himself was wobbly. 

Diamond looked up, meeting Pippin's gaze. "You have pretty eyes," she said. "Not like mine."

"No, you have nice eyes," Pippin replied. Had he been thinking clearly (which he wasn't) he would have never given in and kissed Diamond, but he did.

For a moment the contact broke through Diamond's alcohol-induced haze, and she wondered what she was doing. But then suddenly she felt, for the first time in her life, like maybe she really was pretty, and that maybe someone could love her. 

And the rest, as they say, was history.


	8. In Dreams

In Dreams

Diamond awoke slowly, mostly because she didn't have to wake at that moment, although it was pleasant curled up in the bedclothes. Even being spooned with Pippin, his arm across her hip, was nice. 

At least, until Diamond realized that neither of them were wearing clothes.

__

That woke her up. Diamond sat up sharply, clutching the blankets about her. Then she groaned and pressed a hand to her forehead- that hadn't been a good idea. She now knew why hangovers were evil. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor; she sank back onto the bed. Pippin stirred slightly, but did not wake.

Diamond lay there silently, desperately trying through her headache and sudden nausea to figure out what on earth had happened. She remembered being madly envious of Laurel and Randy, and then joining Pippin at a table. He was already drunk, she recalled, and she'd decided she might as well join him there as well.

The rest was a blur for the most part, although there was one clear moment in all the fog- Pippin kissing her, so intensely chills had run down her spine. Just the memory of it made her toes curl up.

Pippin muttered something in his sleep. Diamond stiffened. It was just enough to send Pippin into wakefulness.

"Hmm?" he murmured, blinking blearily in the dim light that filtered through the window curtains. "What-" he seemed to realize where he was and was suddenly fully alert. Diamond rolled over to meet his gaze.

"Oh dear," Pippin said weakly.

"Indeed," Diamond said coolly.

Pippin felt somewhere between horrified and pleasantly surprised. That glare, however, was enough to force him out of the bed and into his clothes despite his monstrous headache.

"I'll go and get the cart loaded, then," he said, trying to find something to keep Diamond from glowering at him as if he were a Ring-wraith and not her husband.

"Don't bother with my things."

That startled Pippin. "What?"

Diamond sat up, clutching the blankets to her and wincing from her drink-induced headache. "I'm not going back to Tookland," she said firmly, despite her strong desire to simply sink into the bedclothes and never come out again. "I'm staying here a while."

It took Pippin a moment to get his head around this, due to a combination of his hangover, the absurdity of it, and the fact that Diamond was not five feet away and most definitely without clothing.

"What're you talking about, Diamond?"

Diamond flushed and nearly wavered, but stayed firm. "I'm not going back with you."

* * *

Diamond stood on the front step; shielding her eyes and watching as the cart disappeared from sight. On the one hand she was glad to be home, for whom knew how long, but on the other hand a part of her ached to run after Pippin and beg him to take her with him.

"Are you sure?"

Diamond looked up. Sage was giving her a look of motherly concern, but it didn't penetrate Diamond's own fog of misery. Diamond nodded.

"Yes, I'm sure. Maybe someday…" she trailed off into silence, and looked back at the shrinking figure of the cart—and Pippin—in the distance.

Sage nodded. "It's all right. You'll sort things out." She turned and went back inside, leaving Diamond to her own devices.

"I hope so," Diamond whispered to herself. Her eyes glistened with tears that she would never let fall. "I hope so."

* * *

It was a relief, after a few days, to be within walking distance of her best friend and to not have to cook for herself. Gradually Diamond reacquainted herself with what her life had been before Pippin. That is not to say she didn't sometimes catch herself looking longingly down the road towards Tookland, but eventually she did so less and less.

Laurel and Randy were almost disgustingly happy. Diamond tried very hard not to be jealous, seeing as that had got her into this mess to begin with. 

One night, about a month after the wedding, Laurel and Diamond were walking through the woods near Rose Briar, just talking. It was late in the day, and the sunlight was grazing the tops of the trees and turning them golden.

"Randy and I have talked about children," Laurel said, "but I don't think that will happen for several months at least."

"You always talked about having children right off," Diamond said teasingly, ignoring the slight jolt of fierce jealousy and longing she felt at Laurel's words. "What happened to that idea?"

Laurel flushed. "Oh, nothing," she said. "I'm just too busy figuring out how to run a household on my own just now."

They trailed into companionable silence for a few minutes. Then Laurel spoke, though slightly hesitantly.

"What happened between Pippin and you?"

Diamond swallowed hard. "Remember what we were talking about just when I arrived?"

Laurel nodded, brow creased. "Go on."

"The night of the wedding, Pippin and I both got roaring drunk."

"Why?"

"I don't know about Pippin," Diamond said, suddenly finding the dirt path extremely interesting, "but myself… I was jealous," she said softly. "Of you and Randy. You were so happy, and still are. That's something I don't think I'll ever have."

Laurel bit her lip. "You don't know that."

Diamond waved dismissively. "Well, we both got drunk and somehow ended up back at Rose Briar. And then…"

"Yes, and then," Laurel said gently. "You needn't give details, I know what you're talking about. But why?"

Diamond shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I can't remember much. Except…" she trailed into embarrassed silence.

"What?"

"I remember feeling like he really loved me," she said quietly, feeling like she wanted to cry. "And I just wanted to be loved, really. Even if he didn't mean it, if it was just all the ale, I wanted to be loved."

"It's all right, Diamond," Laurel said, patting Diamond's shoulder. "You're allowed. But why didn't you go back?"

Diamond threw her arms up in frustration. "I don't know! I woke up that morning, and I just couldn't. I wasn't sure if it had been real. I wasn't sure of anything. I just know I didn't want to go back with him and deal with it all."

"Do you love him?"

That stopped Diamond in her tracks. For a long moment she thought about it, wondering. Remembering all the times she had longed for Pippin to see her as something more, as someone worth being with. Remembered that night, when Pippin had made the first move but she hadn't stopped him, had even longed for his touch.

"I don't know," she said, feeling a miserable emptiness inside as she said it. Despite Laurel's presence, she had never felt so alone. "I don't know."

* * *

That night, Diamond dreamt that she was back in Tookland, in their house. She could hear Pippin, but could not turn to see him. It was pitch black, but she somehow knew where she was.

He came behind her and wrapped his arms about her, trailing whisper-soft kisses down her neck and collarbone. "I missed you," he murmured, sending shivers down her spine. 

"And I you," she whispered. She wanted so badly to turn around and accept his embrace, but could not.

And then he grasped her shoulders and turned her around himself. She could see his eyes glinting in the near-darkness, could hear the smile in his voice. "Come with me."

He took her hand and she followed, leading her to the master bedroom. She gave herself up entirely to him then, lost in his touch.

And he started slipping away, pulling back. She reached out for him, but-

"Pippin!" Diamond sat up sharply in her bed. She reached out for the place Pippin would have been without thinking, and shuddered when she realized he wasn't there. She flung herself back onto the bed, sobbing dispiritedly as she fully realized just what she had done.

* * *

Pippin awoke with a startled gasp. He stared at the ceiling for a moment and pulled himself up on one elbow, trying to regain his bearings.

The blankets on the other side of the bed were smooth, the pillow not slept on, and Pippin suddenly felt very cold and lonely. For a moment he seriously considered getting his things together and charging out to Long Cleave, to where Diamond was.

Then he sank back into the blankets and stared at the sloped ceiling. She had sent him away, and he would have to wait for her word to go after her. He still longed to reach out and find her beside him, but could do nothing about it for the moment.

So he stared at the ceiling, whispering her name in the darkness.

* * *

Time slipped past, as it has a tendency of doing. Despite her declarations of planning otherwise, Laurel was soon with child and found herself planning for the coming event, always seeming harried yet still glowing.

Diamond never slept well once the dreams started, and after a few weeks Sage gave up asking what was wrong, or why she still had dark circles beneath her eyes after a full night's rest. Truthfully she hardly stayed asleep for more than an hour at a time; she was so beset with dreams of Pippin. Yet she still stubbornly refused to write to Pippin, or to allow anyone else to. If he were to come for her and then not love her, or worse yet see her as baggage, she would never be happy again. She maintained, in her own mind at least, that soon this phase would pass and she would be all right again.

It didn't happen, even after Pippin had been gone for over three months.

* * *

"You look terrible," Merry observed astutely. "And you're drinking. Somebody die?"

"Hello, Merry," Pippin said dully. "No one's died."

"Could've fooled me," Merry replied, sitting in a chair across the small table from Pippin. "You're still on about Diamond, aren't you?"

"You've noticed."

Merry shook his head. "This isn't healthy, cousin. You'll soon turn into a drunkard at this rate. Just write to her."

"I've tried," Pippin snapped. "I just… can't figure out what I want to say."

"So drive out there," Merry said, a slight twinge of desperation creeping into his voice. "Just don't do this to yourself. You're driving all of us mad, not to mention yourself." 

"I don't mind," the barkeep called with a laugh. He choked it off when Merry sent him a death-glare that would have made Sauron himself hesitate.

Pippin shook his head and stood, tossing a coin onto the table. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I can't yet."

He left the inn, leaving Merry to stare miserably after his best friend.

* * *

Early next morning, Merry was awakened by a mad hammering at his door. He rolled out of bed, grumbling that if it were the innkeeper he'd nail him to the wall. He swung the door open.

"Merry!" It was Pippin, looking rushed and dressed for traveling. "Do me a favor, clean up my house while I'm gone? Thanks much, cousin." He thrust a small coin purse into Merry's hands and darted down the hallway.

Merry stuck his head out, grinning. "Give Diamond my love!"

* * *

Diamond was staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace, her knitting lying forgotten in her lap. It was a blanket for Laurel's soon-to-be new arrival, and Diamond kept having the strangest wish that she were making it to keep rather than as a gift. 

Normally Diamond would have gone for a walk directly after breakfast rather than hang about the hobbit-hole, but she felt like being at least somewhat productive and had been trying to work on the blanket when she had become lost in her own thoughts.

Three months in her parent's house. At first she hadn't minded, but then the dreams started and Laurel became more firmly entrenched in her new life and Diamond found herself thinking of writing Pippin more and more often. Now she just wanted to leave, but her own stubbornness prevented it.

A sudden hammering came at the front door. Diamond jumped, startled by the sound. Sage emerged from the kitchen and went to answer it. Diamond focused on her knitting again, trying not to listen in and failing miserably.

She heard a muffled male voice, asking something, and then Sage replying, but she couldn't make out much in the way of words or identify the visitor. So she went to knitting with renewed vigor, shutting out the world as she counted stitches and worked the needles furiously.

A large, rough, blunt-fingered hand suddenly appeared in her vision, halting her fingers' action. A thrill ran through Diamond's body at the touch. She looked up and gasped.

Pippin was kneeling in front of her, his expression unreadable. He looked dreadful, as though he hadn't slept in days. She could relate quite well.

"Hello, Diamond," he said, his voice rough. "Come walk with me?"

Trance-like, Diamond nodded. She set the half-finished blanket in the basket and stood. Pippin took her hand and led her outside. Diamond felt almost like she were inside another dream, but the sunlight and gentle fragrances of innumerable flowers convinced her otherwise.

Pippin led her towards the woods and down one of Diamond's favorite paths without speaking. When they were beyond sight of civilization, he stopped and turned to face her.

"What have you got to say for yourself?"


	9. Reconcilitation

Reconciliation

"So, what do you have to say for yourself?" Pippin asked, eyebrows raised. "It's been three months. You must have something to say."

"What're you doing here?" Diamond asked, wrenching her hand away from his grasp. 

"I'm here for you," Pippin said, as if it were perfectly obvious. "I'm taking you home."

"I told you I wasn't going back," Diamond said, getting upset. "How dare you order me about!"

"I never have before, and look where that got me," Pippin retorted, his own anger rising to match Diamond's. "I thought it was time I tried something else."

"You got yourself into this mess," Diamond said stubbornly, crossing her arms and glowering.

"No, you did," Pippin retorted. "You're the one who decided to exile yourself."

"Only because you- you-" Diamond turned scarlet and shut her mouth, scowling harder than ever.

"Because I what? Because _we, _note, happened to for once actually behave as a married couple and made love?"

"You never should have!" Diamond yelled, red in the face. "Never!"

"In case you've forgotten, _Diamond,_" Pippin retorted, "I was drunk! So were you, for that matter! And whatever you say, the only bit I regret is letting you stay here!"

Diamond opened her mouth to snap back, but stopped short. She looked up at Pippin oddly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Pippin said sharply, "that I'm madly in love with you! Are you that blind, woman?"

"Prove it," Diamond snapped without thinking. And with a speed that any elf would have been proud of, Pippin grabbed her arms, pulled her close, and kissed her with enough force to bruise her lips. At first Diamond stiffened, but then everything left her mind except that he never stopped.

"Well!"

Pippin pulled back. Sage was staring at the two of them with her jaw hanging. When she realized Pippin was staring at her, she scowled.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"Proving a point," Pippin said grimly, and then returned to kissing Diamond senseless.

Sage gaped for a moment, then shook her head and slipped away. Last time she tried to see to her daughter's wellbeing…

Eventually Pippin and Diamond simply had to come up for air. Diamond felt dizzy, so she clutched Pippin's jacket. Pippin placed a hand under her chin and tilted her head back so he could meet her gaze.

"Believe me now?" he asked, suddenly much softer. It took Diamond a moment to process his words.

"All you want is someone to do your laundry," she said stubbornly, although she didn't really believe it herself. 

Pippin shook his head. "Silly woman." He kissed her again then, but much more gently. Somehow it was even more powerful than the previous forceful touch; Diamond felt she could have melted.

Pippin pulled back slightly. "Come home, love," he murmured against her lips. "I miss you."

Diamond shivered slightly, soaking in the moment. She knew now that all the ale in the world couldn't have created something that was never there to begin with.

"All right," she whispered. "All right."

* * *

That afternoon they walked back to Rose Briar and found supper, as well as Diamond's parents, awaiting them. The meal was a quiet affair- Tiberius and Sage kept silent, and neither Diamond nor Pippin wanted to get into their previous discussion with the older couple as witnesses.

Afterwards they all sat before the fire, occupied with small tasks- Sage the mending, Diamond knitting a blanket, Tiberius with his figurine carving and Pippin with merely tending the fire and humming absently to himself.

"How did the harvest go, Pippin?" Tiberius asked, blowing wood chips off his currently shapeless chunk of pine.

"Well enough. Enough that we sold some hay to some other folks."

"That's good."

"Aye."

That was the extent of their after-dinner conversation- Sage soon retired, claiming that she felt unwell. After a few minutes Tiberius too excused himself and left Diamond and Pippin to their own devices.

Pippin silently watched Diamond as she worked, her brow furrowed with concentration as she carefully counted stitches. For half a moment Pippin could have imagined they were in the small house in Tookland instead of Long Cleave, by their own fireside instead of that of Diamond's parents. Then he sighed and looked at the clock on the mantelpiece.

"It's half past ten."

Diamond looked up sharply, startled, and then relaxed as the words settled in her mind and looked at her knitting again. "Oh. Yes, it seems so. Busy tomorrow; best get to bed." She said all this with a highly preoccupied air, as she was still knitting. Pippin laughed and reached over to still her busy hands.

"If I don't send you there myself you'll be up until all hours of the morning," he teased gently, green eyes sparkling in the firelight. "Put that away, it will be here to finish tomorrow."

Diamond shot him a slightly annoyed look, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "All right- if you insist."

"Which I do."

Diamond set down her knitting and stood, stretching out her cramped shoulders. "Going to escort me?"

"Of course, my lady," Pippin said airily. "May I?"

"You may." Diamond offered her arm and Pippin took it in his own with a playful smile.

Pippin didn't know the way around Rose Briar so Diamond led the way to her room. As soon as Diamond opened the door Pippin turned to leave, but halted at Diamond's gentle touch.

"Where are you going?"

"The guestroom, if I ever find it," Pippin said. "Why?"

A vaguely hurt expression flickered across Diamond's face. "Well…"

Understanding suddenly ran through Pippin's mind. He kissed her gently; questioning, but mostly longing. It was over after only a moment that was at once forever and only an instant. He suddenly felt uncertain, even after the electric kisses they had shared earlier that day.

"Stay with me," Diamond whispered. "Please?"

Pippin's only reply was to enter the room with her and close the door.

* * *

Later that night, they laid together in the bed, listening to the sounds of the night drifting in through the open window. They were spooned together, allowing as much tactile contact as possible.

"I missed you," Pippin murmured, pressing a kiss onto Diamond's bare shoulder.

"And I you," Diamond said sleepily. "But it's all better now."

"I'm sorry I didn't come before now."

"It's all right," Diamond said softly. "It's over now. Shh, go to sleep."

And so they did.

* * *

The world was right.

Diamond was terrified that was when awoke she would be alone again, that the previous night had only been a wishful dream. But she woke to the sound of Pippin's deep breathing against her ear, their legs tangled together and his arm clutching her tightly as if he too were afraid she would be gone when he awoke. Diamond sank into it all, soaking up the moment.

It still seemed unreal, but no dream was ever so blissful. Never had she felt so rested, even when asleep. And even the wildest dreams could never summon up such a feeling of being protected, of being _loved_.

After a few minutes Pippin too awoke but said nothing- Diamond only knew it by the change in his breathing. She rolled over to meet his gaze.

"'Morning," she said softly.

"Mmm," Pippin murmured groggily. He smiled lopsidedly. "Not going to send me off again?"

"No. Never again."

"Good." Pippin kissed her gently and traced circles on her side beneath the blankets. Diamond jumped back.

"Ticklish?" Pippin asked, a teasing smile stealing across his face. Diamond flushed.

"Partly," she confessed sheepishly. "And partly unused to not having clothes on."

"Ah." Pippin sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The room was far brighter than it had been the last time that they had awoken in such a position. Diamond seemed to realize just how bright it was at the same time Pippin did.

"Oh no!" she gasped, getting out of the bed so fast that she didn't untangle herself from the sheets and fell onto the floor. Blushing, she seized her dress from the floor, along with the rest of her clothes. "Papa and Mother probably know exactly what happened," she said as she hurriedly climbed into her clothes. "Oh dear."

"Calm down," Pippin said, getting up himself and finding his own clothes. "They'll understand. Really. They were young once too."

Diamond shot him a glare. "You don't know my mother, then," she said as she finished dressing. "It's probably nigh-on eleven o'clock!"

"Well, we were up late," Pippin said diplomatically, ignoring Diamond's sudden blush. "All right then, go panic," Pippin said as he pulled his shirt on, the latter half of his words muffled. "I'll be out directly."

Diamond nodded and slipped out, closing the door firmly behind her. She took a moment to grin to herself, unbelievably happy that she would never again have to dream to have Pippin beside her. Then she steeled herself and went into the kitchen.

Tiberius was sitting at the kitchen table, nibbling some toast and reading a genealogy chart while Sage washed dishes. The poses looked rather too rehearsed to be natural.

"Good morning," Tiberius said, setting down the chart. "You look well," he said mildly, although a smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Where's Pippin?"

"Dressing," Diamond said shortly. "What's that?"

"This? Oh, I was seeing how much room there was for grandchildren," Tiberius replied, smiling openly now. Diamond flushed brilliantly.

"Papa!"

"You know, dear, you weren't exactly subtle," Sage said, turning around and wiping her hands on her apron. "I saw how you were looking at each other; beyond that you weren't very quiet last night."

Diamond couldn't think of an answer. She just stood in the doorway, blushing from one end to the other.

"Morning," Pippin said cheerfully, easing around Diamond to get into the kitchen. "Is there any breakfast to be had? I'd like to leave before three o'clock."

"Keeping warm on the hearth," said Sage, gesturing to the kitchen fire. "I'll fetch it for you." She began dishing up the still-warm remnants of breakfast. Pippin took a seat at the table. Still a bit pink, Diamond did as well.

"Sure you won't stay?" Tiberius asked, looking at Pippin over the top of his reading-spectacles. "Just for another day or so."

"Thank you for the invitation," Pippin said politely, "but I'm afraid not. I'm rather anxious to get back home."

"Taking Diamond with you?"

"That's the idea."

"About time," Sage said as she set the plates on the table. "We love you dearly, girl, but you belong with Pippin. It's positively shameful for a married woman to be living with her parents."

Diamond began eating resolutely, trying to hide her recurring blush. Pippin grinned slightly at her and set to eating.

"It's a two-day trip, isn't it?" Tiberius asked. Pippin nodded, his mouth full. He swallowed before answering verbally. "About that, yes."

"I'll pack some food for you, then," Sage said. "For the trip." She disappeared into the pantry and could be heard shifting things around.

"Hurry up then, Diamond," said Tiberius, standing and removing his spectacles. "You'll be needing to pack your things."

Despite Pippin's plans, it was after four when they finally left Rose Briar. What with packing, gathering provisions, loading the cart, and saying good-bye, particularly to Laurel, it had on the whole taken longer than anticipated.

As soon as they were beyond sight of Rose Briar Diamond let out a long sigh. Pippin cast her a questioning look.

"I'm just glad it's really happening," Diamond said by way of explanation. "That you didn't forget me."

Pippin smiled slightly and grasped her hand. "I could never forget you."

The rest of the afternoon passed in companionable silence.

* * *

They arrived late at night the next day. The little neighborhood was sleepy and quiet, and so were the two travelers. 

When Pippin pulled the pony to a stop in front of the little house, Diamond automatically picked up what bags she could reach and went inside while Pippin saw to the pony. It was pitch black inside and she was unsure where the candles or matches were, so she left the bundles by the door and went out to fetch the remainder while Pippin went into the tiny stable.

After she had carried the last of it into the house and left them in a pile, Pippin came in behind her and shut the door. Diamond was trying to make out the shape of the entry hall and jumped when Pippin wrapped his arms around her from behind. For half a second she was afraid she had strayed into another dream, but such notions vanished a moment later- no dream was ever so vivid, so real.

He pressed a gentle kiss against her neck, and then murmured, "Welcome home, love," next to her ear. Diamond turned within his arms and pulled his head down until their foreheads touch.

"I love you," she soft, softly and yet fiercely. "You hear me? And no matter what I say, never leave me again."

"I won't," Pippin said quietly. He reached up and touched her cheek softly. 

"Promise?"

"I promise." As if to seal his promise, Pippin kissed her with an almost strange tenderness. After the kiss broke, he grinned slightly.

"What-" Diamond's words were cut off with a startled shriek of laughter as Pippin literally swept her off her feet. She wrapped her arms around his neck, partly delighted and partly afraid she would be dropped.

"What're you doing?!"

"Taking my wife to bed," Pippin replied, grinning mischievously. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," Diamond said breathlessly. The idea that she belonged to him was far from irritating- she rather liked it, in fact.

So Pippin carried her down the hallway to the master bedroom. Diamond had to open the door and then push it shut again, as Pippin was otherwise occupied. Then he set her gently on the bed and kneeled on the floor.

"I didn't know you could be so romantic," Diamond teased gently.

Pippin shrugged. "Never had occasion to."

"I rather like it."

The corner of Pippin's mouth quirked upwards. "Glad you approve," he said.

"Come up here," said Diamond, scooting back and lying down. Pippin got up onto the bed and lay beside her.

"Diamond-"

"Shh."

"What?"

Diamond pulled him close and kissed him then, and the rest of the world fell away.


	10. Epilogue

Merry watched silently from his seat beneath the oak tree, unseen and unquestioned. In a few minutes he'd get up and help, but for the moment he was content to merely observe.

It the six months since Diamond's return, he'd seen an amazing change come over his best friend. Suddenly Pippin was always cheerful and happy, always ready to play jokes on people, and always ready to go home just to watch Diamond prepare dinner. Merry would have found it amusing if he hadn't seen what Pippin was like without Diamond- miserable, lonely, irritable, and downright terrible company.

And now they were moving to Bywater, which on the whole made sense seeing as Pippin preferred it and the Hobbiton area to Tookland. Diamond didn't care, apparently, as long as they were still within a reasonable distance of Long Cleave. 

Merry tilted his head slightly. Yes, speaking of Diamond- she had settled down quite a bit from the flighty creature that he'd first met nearly two years previous. She wasn't as moody now, and more apt to laugh. And recently she had a particular glow about her, which turned someone who was pretty hobbit-lass into a beautiful woman. Merry didn't comment to anyone about that, especially about his own suspicions. He was probably right anyway, but chose to keep it to himself.

Weary of sitting and thinking, Merry rose and walked down the hill towards the large wagon being unloaded. Pippin was overseeing it and Diamond was chatting with a few of her new neighbors nearby.

"Pippin!" Merry joined his lifelong friend, giving him a hearty smack on the back. "Good to see you. I thought you wouldn't be here until tomorrow."

Pippin shrugged, although he couldn't smother a grin. "Diamond's parents are coming out and we wanted to get things in order as quickly as possible."

"Out for what?"

"Housewarming, mainly."

"What else?"

Pippin sent Merry a mock-glare. "You'll find out later, you meddler," he said, his tone teasing. "As soon as Diamond sets the secret loose."

"The one she's carrying around under her skirts, you mean?"

"Merry!"

Merry laughed at the irritated look on Pippin's face. "I see you two all the time, I'm not blind," he said, chuckling. "I've suspected for a good while now, actually. Any hobbit-woman who glows like that is either getting married or with child, and you've covered the first one already."

"You pay too much attention for your own good, Meriadoc," said Pippin, unable to smother a grin. "You can congratulate yourself now."

"Myself? Good heavens no." Merry grabbed Pippin's hand and shook it thoroughly. "I'm to congratulate you, and Diamond."

"Well all right." Pippin extricated his rather crushed hand from Merry's and shook it out. "Go and talk to her; I've got things to do."

Merry nodded and left Pippin to his overseeing. He made his way through the milling mass of curious onlookers and found Diamond, where she was talking with three young ladies from across the way.

"Hello girls," said Merry nodding to the hobbit-lasses and eliciting several giggles. He then seized Diamond in an enormous bear hug.

"Merry!" Diamond squealed. "Set me down!"

Merry obediently set her back on her feet, grinning unapologetically. "I'd like to be first to offer both my condolences and congratulations," he said cheekily. 

"What ever do you mean?" Diamond asked, blushing slightly.

"I'm not blind, cousin," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Beyond that, no one brings a cradle to their new house without reason."

One of the local girls let out a squeal. Her sisters silenced her and the three moved off to allow Merry and Diamond their private conversation.

"You're a born meddler, Merry," said Diamond with a laugh, shaking her head. "I don't know why I like you."

"Funny, Pippin said the same thing. Anyway, about how far long?" he asked.

"Three months or so," Diamond said, blushing a deeper shade of scarlet. "It's part of the reason we moved- larger house, fewer relatives within walking distance. And of course, an all-around lovely little village."

"Of course it is," Merry said pompously. "I live here."

"Which makes you our only close relative and most likely candidate for changing nappies," Diamond said, smiling mischievously. 

"Oh dear."

"Mmm. Help us put our things in order? It seems the cart has been emptied."

"Certainly."

They went inside, along with Pippin, who was carrying a few bundles that might have been blankets. The entry hall was piled high with boxes, bundles, and cartons.

"I hope you were nice," said Pippin, addressing Merry. "Nothing inappropriate." He glanced at Diamond, who merely rolled her eyes.

"Please, Pippin," said Merry. "You act as though I would take your wife somewhere and ravish her."

"I should certainly hope not," Diamond said indignantly.

"Indeed," Pippin agreed with a wicked little grin. "That's my job."

Diamond let out an indignant noise and smacked Pippin's shoulder amidst laughter from both he and Merry. "And you were talking about not being inappropriate!"

They spent the rest of the day setting the place in order, which altogether wasn't all that difficult. Then Diamond made a simple supper of baked mushrooms and the three dined together in the Tooks' new kitchen.

"Here's to new beginnings," said Merry, lifting up his glass of milk in a toast. Diamond and Pippin too raised their glasses, and they all drank deeply. Diamond set her glass down first and surveyed her surroundings with satisfaction.

"It's wonderful," she said. "Thank you for helping, Merry."

"You are most welcome," said Merry graciously. "I'm just up the road if you ever need anything."

"Yes, we know," said Pippin. "We've been there often enough."

"It's been a splendid day," said Merry. "I'd best be off, then, and let you two get used to your new home." He drained his glass and rose, nodding to Diamond and then letting himself out.

He wandered down the dark path towards the Green Dragon, whistling merrily and thoughts of how much he was going to tease Pippin when the world found out.


End file.
